


And We Both Go Around In Circles

by azfell



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1890s, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gay, Gay Male Character, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Oscar Wilde - Freeform, Oscar Wilde Trials, Post-Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), References to Oscar Wilde, Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azfell/pseuds/azfell
Summary: In which two ethereal beings chase each other at the complete wrong times, and just go around in circles.After their fight in St. James's Park, Crowley watches over Aziraphale to make sure he stays out of trouble. This is going fine, until Aziraphale begins to fall for Oscar Wilde and Crowley gets all too jealous.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	1. One

Aziraphale and Crowley had been friends for nearly six thousand years. They’d first met in the Garden of Eden, where Aziraphale was in charge of guarding the Eastern Gate. They’d been through a lot together, really, and they considered each other the best of friends. Not all parties involved were pleased with that label, unfortunately. 

Crowley was completely and madly in love with Aziraphale. He had been since they met in the Garden of Eden, since Aziraphale admitted to giving his flaming sword away to Adam and Eve. He loved and adored every part of the angel, even if he was a bit of a mess at times. Even at his messiest, the angel was good at pretending to keep things together. He made Crowley feel secure. There wasn’t much security in a demon’s life, but Aziraphale seemed to change that. He wanted to feel secure, with Aziraphale, for the rest of eternity. He wanted it more than anything. 

Of course, he never acted upon his feelings. He was playing a dangerous enough game being friends with an angel. He couldn’t imagine what Hell would do to him if they found out he was in love with one. Besides, he had no reason to believe Aziraphale felt the same towards him. He didn’t want to jeopardize the good thing they had going. 

Crowley wouldn’t ever admit it, but he was deathly terrified of what Hell could do to him. Of course, he knew that Hell would destroy him if, or rather when, they realized he had a relationship with Aziraphale. They’d destroy him, no doubt about it. But Crowley was sure they’d torture him beforehand. He wasn’t very keen on being tortured then thrown in Holy Water. 

Almost thirty years prior, he’d asked Aziraphale to secure some Holy Water for him. He only wanted a sort of insurance policy, for when things inevitably went south. That conversation went poorly, to say the least. Aziraphale took it the wrong way- he thought Crowley wanted it to kill himself. Quite the opposite- Crowley was prepared to destroy other demons rather than betray or leave Aziraphale. It caused a big fight, and the pair hadn’t spoken since. 

Crowley really didn’t want to make the first move to rekindling their friendship. A part of him that Aziraphale may have described as “nice” thought that he should give the angel some space. A much bigger and more selfish part of him was simply afraid that Aziraphale hated him and he’d make the situation worse by talking to him too soon. 

Of course, Crowley still hung around Aziraphale. The angel tended to get himself into sticky situations, and Crowley had every intention of keeping him safe. Aziraphale never noticed, but wherever he went, there was always a black snake nearby, lurking in the grass or the trees. He was almost like Aziraphale’s guardian demon- really turning the tables there. Aziraphale had no idea Crowley still hung around him, and Crowley intended to keep it that way. 

He never interfered with Aziraphale’s personal life. He only observed, pining just a bit. Lately, Aziraphale had been reading quite a bit of Oscar Wilde’s work. He was a newer author, and Aziraphale seemed completely enamoured with him and his work. Crowley wasn’t much of a reader, but he’d read a couple of Wilde’s publications. He wanted to see what Aziraphale was so excited over. It wasn’t really his thing. 

Crowley (in his snake form) was just waking up from a nap in one of Aziraphale’s bookshelves when he heard him excitedly chatting with a friend. 

“Yes, it’s this Saturday!” the angel said excitedly. “I do love his works, I’m quite excited to meet him.”

Crowley, his mind still in that hazy, just waking up phase, began listening intently. 

“I’ve been to one of his lectures before. Quite an insightful man, that Wilde is,” the other man said. 

The two continued babbling about Wilde, and Crowley spaced out. Aziraphale was going to a lecture from this Oscar Wilde, and was going to meet the man afterwards. Crowley knew how much the angel absolutely loved the author, so he was quite happy for his friend. Crowley, however, was afraid he may be bored to the point of discorporation. He planned on sleeping through the lecture. 

He loved sleeping. 

Nothing too eventful happened between that day and Saturday. Aziraphale went about his days, did his job occasionally, and even collected a couple new books. The day came of Wilde’s lecture, and Crowley had never seen Aziraphale so giddy. He spent the morning putting together his finest outfit, straightening his bowtie at least ten times, and rereading his favorite Wilde works. Crowley thought it was kind of cute. 

Cars had just been invented a few years ago. Nearly no one had one, but by some  _ miracle _ Aziraphale had acquired one. He never drove it, though. He hired someone to drive it for him. It wouldn’t take hardly anything for Aziraphale to learn to drive, but Crowley took it that it made the angel nervous. Crowley wondered why he got one, rather than keeping a horse drawn carriage. Those were much more Aziraphale’s speed. 

Crowley slithered into Aziraphale’s satchel before they left the shop, working his way under a small book. The angel chatted with the driver the whole way there, talking about the weather and asking if he’d ever read Wilde’s works. After a fairly short drive, Crowley felt Aziraphale lift his satchel and carry it inside the lecture hall, then setting it at his feet as he sat down inside. 

True to his promise to himself earlier, Crowley ended up napping through the entire lecture. He did attempt to listen for the first few minutes, but he just couldn’t make himself pay attention. 

Crowley woke up to the movement of Aziraphale’s bag. He felt the angel pick it up and scurry excitedly towards Oscar Wilde at the front of the room. There was a small crowd of a few people around the author, each asking a question or making a comment and Wilde giving a thoughtful response. Aziraphale didn’t speak much, mostly just taking him in. 

Crowley took a risk and just barely peaked his head out of Aziraphale’s satchel, taking a good look at the man the angel was so giddy over. He had dark hair, just a bit long, and a long face. He was tall, much taller than Aziraphale. Even a bit taller than Crowley in his human form. Crowley ducked back down into the bag to avoid being seen and listened on. 

  
Aziraphale waited until the others in the small crowd left before really striking a conversation with Wilde. He started off complimenting his poems, and soon the two were discussing their favorite literary works excitedly. They seemed to be bonding very well, making a genuine connection. 

“Do you have a telephone?” Oscar asked at one point. 

“I do,” Aziraphale replied. 

“Why don’t you give me a ring sometime, we can continue this conversation then?” the author proposed. 

Crowley couldn’t see the angel, but he knew he was blushing all different shades of red. “Why, I’d love to.”

The two said their goodbyes, and Aziraphale’s driver took him back to the bookshop. 

Crowley had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale begins a relationship with Oscar Wilde and misses Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Uranian was like the only non-offensive term for gay men that had any traction at this point in time. It's gone like completely out of use now, so thought I'd include the definition here)

Aziraphale felt like he was on top of the world. Nothing could possibly bring him down. He’d met his favorite author, Oscar Wilde, and had a lovely conversation with him. If that wasn’t enough to get the angel giddy beyond belief, he’d managed to  _ successfully  _ flirt with the man too. He was so glad that someone thought up the telephone, and that both he and Oscar owned one. He thought he should personally thank them. 

He wanted to get on the rooftops, and shout about how happy he was. He wanted to tell all his customers at the shop. He wanted to tell everyone he’d ever met. He wanted to tell-

Crowley. 

They hadn’t spoken in nearly thirty years. They really were best friends, they usually told each other all their big moments. He’d gotten all excited, wanting to meet up with the demon, before he remembered they weren’t speaking. 

Aziraphale wasn’t upset anymore. He wanted to talk to Crowley, to make up and forget their fight. He figured he should give him some space, though. He wanted to let Crowley make the first move. It was the polite thing to do, he figured. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having him around, and miss having someone consistent to talk to. Being immortal certainly had its perks, but outliving most all of your friends was not one of them. Crowley didn’t live a short life, though. Aziraphale liked consistency. He hated when things around him changed too much. Crowley being in his life was (nearly) consistent. 

His mood did dip for a moment when remembering that he and Crowley were in a fight. He let himself be upset for a moment, but then remembered that he had Oscar Wilde’s number. 

He wondered when he should call. That question was as old as time (or, as old as telephones). When to call him? Right after? A day after? A week? Aziraphale had to admit, unwritten social cues weren’t really his strong suit. 

It took about an hour of deliberating, but Aziraphale finally came to the conclusion that he’d phone Oscar the next day. 

Aziraphale was an excellent flirt when he wanted to be. He rarely wanted to, honestly, but he could woo any man he pleased with ease. It was something he never bragged about, but was quite proud of. 

The following afternoon, he was staring at the series of numbers Oscar had scribbled down, his hand resting on his telephone. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. As previously mentioned, Aziraphale had no trouble with men. He’d had a couple relationships with humans over the years. He couldn’t possibly keep track of all the men he’d flirted with. Oscar seemed different though, somehow. This was someone he’d admired dearly, someone he’d wanted to meet since he found his works. This was a relationship he’d actually be quite upset if it didn’t work out. 

But he’d kick himself for the rest of eternity if he never tried. 

He drew a deep breath and dialed the number. A young man on the other end was the operator and put him through to Oscar. 

“Hello?” the man on the other end said. 

“Hello,” Aziraphale began. “Is this Mr. Oscar Wilde?”

“It is,” Oscar replied. 

“This is Aziraphale, from yesterday.”

“Ah, yes! I was very much looking forward to your call. Meeting you yesterday was very pleasant,” Oscar said. Aziraphale swore he could hear a smile in the man’s voice.

Aziraphale felt his face get just a bit hot. “Likewise,” he said. He wondered if Oscar could hear the smile in his voice. “You really are quite an insightful, lovely fellow. I’d love to get to know you better, on a personal level.”

“I’d like that,” Oscar said. “You certainly aren’t someone I’d mind being close with.”

Aziraphale’s face got red. He composed himself quickly before saying, “Why, in what way, Mr. Wilde?” with a devious tone to his voice. 

Oscar laughed. “What would you say to joining me to a night in a gentleman’s club I like to attend? Very discreet, if you know what I mean.”

Aziraphale did know what he meant. Gentlemen’s clubs were usually for the elite, rich and fancy type of people. However, there were a few  _ discreet _ clubs Aziraphale was aware of for Uranian men, to have a safe space. That also confirmed Aziraphale’s suspicions that Oscar was  _ interested _ in him. 

“I’d be honored. Where shall we meet?” 

“Lovely. We can meet there, if you like?” Oscar proposed. 

“Perfect, tell me where and what time and I’ll be there,” Aziraphale said, sounding chipper. 

Oscar relayed the information to the angel, who wrote it down. 

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Aziraphale told the man. 

“And I to you,” Oscar replied. 

The pair said their goodbyes and hung up their phones. 

Aziraphale smiled to himself. The feeling of being wanted by a man was one of the best feelings in the world, in his opinion. He hadn’t been involved with anyone in a while, he would admit he missed the feeling. 

Excitement was bubbling in his chest again. His interactions with Oscar were short, but Aziraphale enjoyed every moment. Relationships were fun, and of course having someone around who really cared for you wasn’t bad either. 

It was an unfortunate thing that Aziraphale’s relationships never lasted long. Most men wanted a sexual relationship at some point, and that simply wasn’t anything Aziraphale was interested in. He did have a lovely relationship with a fellow a couple millenia ago who didn’t mind the lack of sex. That relationship was ended for an unrelated issue Aziraphale could no longer recall. 

He was never sure when to bring up this fact once he did enter a relationship. He figured he should probably work on that. 

That wasn’t to say he’d go his entire eternal life with no sex. He figured once he truly fell in love with someone, he’d be into the idea. He just hadn’t fallen in love yet. He wondered if he’d fall in love with Oscar. He was excited to find out where the relationship may go. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Crowley would be around for the ride, or around anytime soon. 


End file.
